Armada: Agony of the Gods

Chapter 4: The Iron Wall

The Iron Wall looms before Luna Nocturnis, a colossal structure of ominous grandeur. As she walked along its formidable length, the palpable presence of impending power inundated her senses.

Luna gazes upward, taking in the sheer magnitude of the wall. Its towering height casts a shadow that stretches ominously across the landscape, almost blotting out the war-torn sky. The cannons, massive and menacing, line the wall like silent sentinels, their dark metal gleaming with an air of formidable authority.

The low hum of machinery punctuates the still air, a constant mechanical symphony that reverberates through the metal behemoth. Her ears catch the occasional creaks and groans of the structure as if the very essence of the wall is alive with ominous energy.

The scent of cold steel and industrial might linger with the aroma of oil and grease hanging in the atmosphere; a testament to the ceaseless machinery that keeps the wall operational. She inhales deeply, the scent of machinery mingling with the distant odor of approaching storm clouds.

She runs her fingers along the cold, unyielding surface of the Iron Wall. The metal is smooth beneath her touch, yet there's an undeniable chill that sends a shiver down her spine. The vibrations from the machinery subtly resonate through the metal, creating a sensation that speaks of both strength and foreboding.

As Luna continues her walk, she can almost taste the tension in the air. The Iron Wall stands as a formidable barrier, an embodiment of the Lyran's determination. Her senses, heightened by the impending conflict, absorb every detail of the foreboding structure, preparing her for the battles that lie ahead.

She steps into the elevator, its metallic doors sliding shut with cold, mechanical precision. The ascent is swift, the sensation of gravity shifting subtly as the elevator smoothly glides upward along the towering expanse of the Wall.

As She reaches the top, the expansive view unfolds before her. Darius' troops move with purpose, a sea of determined werewolves converging towards the wall like a relentless tide. Her keen eyes survey the landscape below, the intricate formations of soldiers on the battlefield, and the approaching Sacrament forces.

The hum of the elevator is replaced by the distant echoes of warfare. The clatter of armor, the rhythmic beat of boots on the ground, and the occasional distant howls intertwine with the mechanical sounds of the Iron Wall. 

Luna listens intently, her ears attuned to the symphony of the conflict unfolding below.

The air at the top of the wall carries a distinct scent—a mingling of ozone, metal, and the acrid whiff of distant explosives.

She steps out onto the platform, feeling the cold metal beneath her paws. Brisk wind tugs at her fur and the subtle vibrations from the bustling activity below resonate through the platform. 

The tactile sensation of standing atop the Iron Wall sends a thrill through her, a silent acknowledgment of the strategic advantage it provides.

Luna's voice crackles over the radio as she contacts Darius. "Strike Cardinal Hexage, better commanders than you have met their end under the Iron Wall"